Times Have Changed But Somethings Stay The Same
by TheAlphaWrites
Summary: Peter is growing but that doesn't mean he's not their little boy anymore. Requested. Steve/Tony. Part of 'My Super Family' verse.


**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Requested by WickedPinapple and nerdytardis**

_**Thank you to my beta, WithinHerHeart :)**_

* * *

Steve and Tony had adopted Peter when he was still a baby, barely a few months old and already parentless due to some freak car accident turned pile-up on the highway. They didn't know many of the details about it, although they both promised that they would find out more when the boy was old enough to know the truth, but that didn't change the fact that he was their little boy.

He was their little boy when he said his first word ("Da-da!") and when he first learnt to walk, his chubby legs walking unsteadily between Dada to Papa. He was their little boy when he started pre-school, and stared out at the intimidating playground with wide fearful eyes from behind Steve's leg, and had asked Tony whether this was a punishment for breaking into his lab when he wasn't supposed to be there. He was still their little boy when he came into his abilities, a genetic abnormality according to Bruce, and he had used his webs to swing from room to room to try and escape bath time.

But all things came to an end, and the evidence that Peter was getting older just kept slapping them in the face.

The first sign was on Peter's thirteenth birthday. As it was tradition on their birthdays, the small family of three would spend the mornings together, Steve would cook pancakes under Peter's request, before they would head into the main section of the Avengers mansion to join the rest of the families for the rest of the celebrations.

Peter was bouncing excitedly in place, babbling happily to his fond looking parents about what they would do when they got to the amusement park – the main part of his birthday present – when it happened.

"-And Harry said there was this massive ride, like a dipper or something, that he went on when he was there, and it had all these loop-de-loops and spins and he went upside down at one point – and then he said he threw up when he got off, but it was completely worth it and Sleipnir a_nd Charley said they would_-"Peter paused suddenly, stilling in place, his hand coming to his throat automatically.

Tony frowned, concerned. "Peter…?"

"I think there's some_thing wrong with my voice_," Peter tried to explain, looking confused.

Steve's lips twitched slightly in amusement. "Yes, it does sound like it, doesn't it?"

"Then _what's wro_ng with it? Wha_t's happening_?"

"Your voice is breaking Spidey," Tony explained carefully, one arm slinging over the back of his son's chair, clearly trying to suppress his laughter because, let's be honest, it was _hilarious_ but he doubted that would have helped in any way.

"My voice is breaking!?" Peter squeaked out, panicked.

"Don't worry son, it's not serious. It's something that every boy goes through, at some point," Steve was quick to assure, abandoning his post at the stove to flitter around his child. "Honestly, it's natural."

"…Well, how long is it going to keep doing this?"

Tony shrugged. "Depends on the person, most of the time it just comes and goes – remember Sep had the same problem when he was twelve?"

"We teased him for weeks," Peter stared wide eyed.

"Be prepared for payback son," Steve chuckled.

The little brunet glared with mock annoyance at the Captain. "Pa, the pancakes are burning."

Steve spun around, alarmed, his hands automatically reaching for the dish towel to blow away the black smoke. "Oh, jeez…"

Peter and Tony shared a glance and snickered behind their hands.

* * *

The next sign didn't happen for a few months after the first, and it literally snuck up on Tony. He wasn't exactly the tallest man in the house – Steve and Thor literally dwarfed him, even in the Iron Man suit which allowed him to grow a good four inches – but he had never imagined the day when his _thirteen year old son would be taller than him_.

He was half asleep at the time and for a good few seconds, he thought maybe he was hallucinating. He blinked beadily over his steaming mug of coffee as Peter reached out to grab a mug from the top shelf, no longer needing to push up onto his tiptoes to scramble for the ceramic.

"You're taller," Tony stated bluntly.

Peter glanced over his shoulder, looking surprised. He glanced between the mug in his hand, the open cupboard and his skinny legs for a few moments before shrugging. "Huh, yeah, I guess so; I didn't notice it, although that explains why I thought my jeans were getting shorter."

"Let your Aunt Pepper know, she can take you shopping his weekend," Tony responded with his customary response whenever shopping was involved.

He watched closely as the boy poured some of the freshly brewed coffee (_when did he start drinking coffee?_ Tony wondered) into the empty mug and drowned the dark liquid in cream and sugar. He walked around the breakfast bar slowly, sipping gently at his drink, to stand at his Dad's side.

"Dad, can I take the comics?" he asked, referring to the newspaper that Tony had abandoned as soon as the boy had entered the room.

Tony made a small noise of approval, fumbling with the pages to pass the section over. Peter accepted the few pages with a wide smile. He made to move away, to his place on the sofa in the living rooms where he usually stayed until Steve returned from his run and began to prepare breakfast, but stopped suddenly.

"Hey, I just realised something," he announced with a grin, "I'm taller than you."

Tony scowled, grumbling curses under his breath and burying himself in his coffee, blocking out the teenager's laughter.

* * *

The third sign followed quickly. Peter had stayed late at school for some photography club meeting and, because of Elise's seventh birthday party that evening, it had been arranged that Steve and Tony would pick Peter up after the meeting, pick up the present before returning to the mansion for the family get together. They pulled up in the parking lot and glanced around for the appearance of their son's messy hair.

"He said he'd meet us out here," Steve frowned slightly.

"Don't worry, he's probably just gotten lost in his work, it happens all the time," Tony brushed the concerns away, "Just give it a few minutes and if he doesn't show up, I'll give him a call."

"Wait, I think that's him…_is that a girl?_" Steve blurted out surprised, eyebrows rising behind the blond hair that flopped over his forehead.

Tony scrambled upwards, trying to see what his husband could see, pressing their faces together, following his gaze. And there, standing off to the corner, practically shielded by trees and other cars, was definitely the profile of their son, smiling widely at a blond haired girl. She was grinned widely, completely focused on him, and had her hands gripping the hem of his shirt.

"Yes, yes, I do believe that is someone of the opposite sex," Tony nodded solemnly before a grin broke out across his face, "That's my boy."

"So, um, what do we do?" Steve blinked at him wide-eyed.

"What do you mean, what do we do?"

"I'm sorry but I've never had to deal with my son interacting with any females that weren't family, so excuse me if I'm at a loss of what to do here," Steve snapped.

"I have an idea," Tony responded quickly, detaching his seatbelt and pushing the door open. He stood up, using the edge of the car to boost his height and leaning against the door for balance.

"Um, Tony, what are you do-"Steve started to question nervously.

"Pete! Pete! Peter! Peter!" Tony began to call loudly. He watched with great delight as the two kids jerked away from each other and Peter scanned the front of the school, flushing with embarrassment and Tony grinned maniacally, waving wildly. "Come on Pete, we need to get to the Disney store so you can pick out your present and then you've got your job as Elise's horsey to get to!"

Even from this distance, he could see the blush darken on the boy's face. He cackled loudly before sliding back into the car, a self satisfied smirk on his face.

Steve looked at him with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "Tony…"

"What? Come on, it's my job as a parent to embarrass my child – don't take the fun out of my life Steve," Tony pouted childishly.

Steve simply sighed, shaking his head, a small smile playing on his lips.

Peter opened the back door to the car and dropped heavily into his seat. His cheeks were still flushed pink and he had his arms folded across his chest.

"Thanks a lot dad," he grumbled under his breath.

"No problem," Tony replied cheerfully, "So, who's the girl?"

"No one, she's no one."

"You two seemed pretty close for her being no one," Steve pointed out.

"We're just friends," Peter responded quickly.

"Whatever makes you sleep at night Spidey," Tony finished mockingly.

* * *

"_A girl?_" Natasha repeated as if the whole idea was ludicrous, "_Our_ Peter, with a _girl_?"

Steve nodded, cradling a glass of orange juice in his hands. "Yup, an actual girl, like holding hands and everything."

"I remember a time when he didn't want to sit next to Charley because that Harry kid at school had told him that girls have cooties," Darcy snorted her amusement.

"God, you make it sound so long ago," he sighed heavily.

"Well, Peter is getting older. He's not going to stay a kid forever," Rosette told him with a small shrug.

"Why not?" Steve definitely did not whine.

"It's the way of life," she told him, a look of understanding on her face, "I wished the same thing with Sep started talking about girls and his magic was getting out of control because of his hormones – almost made me wish he was still having temper tantrums – and I know that soon enough Fen is going to follow him, and then this baby." Her hands drifted to her swelled stomach.

"God, we're getting old," Steve sighed heavily.

"Doesn't mean we still can't kick some ass when needed," Natasha added with an arched eyebrow.

"Anyway, it could be worse, we could be Steve right now," Darcy smirked knowingly.

"Why? What's going to happen to Steve right now?" the blond man questioned, panic seeping into his voice.

"Well, now that Peter has taken an interest in girls – real girls – you need to give him The Talk."

Steve stared at her blankly. "The talk?"

Darcy hummed. "Yup, the Talk, very important so you don't become grandparents before your time."

"_Grandparents?_" Steve yelped out, his eyes wide, "What kind of talk are you referring to?"

"Don't tell me your parents never gave you The Talk," Natasha said slowly.

"I grew up in war times, there weren't many opportunities for our parents to give us 'talks'," he grumbled under his breath. He sighed heavily. "What would I even say?"

Rosette gave him a sympathic look. "Talk to Loki. We have a deal – he does the boys, I do the girls, if we ever have any – and he gave Sep his Talk a few years back, maybe he'll be able to help; he seemed to do a good job with Sep."

"How do you know?"

Rosette flushed a little in embarrassment. "He, uh, looked suitably traumatized by the whole situation."

"And that's a good reaction then?"

"In these circumstances…yes."

* * *

"Um, Peter, c-could you, um, come here for a second?"

The thirteen year old paused in his steps, and eyed his Papa with a wary gaze. The man looked nervous. He didn't think he could ever remember a time that Captain America – his Papa – had very looked nervous. He'd seen worried, usually whenever his dad was concerned, but nothing akin to nervous.

"Uh, um, sure, Papa…" Peter reluctantly agreed, slowly taking the few steps backwards and walking into the living room. He took the empty seat across from his parent on the sofas, shifting awkwardly when Steve didn't speak right away. "So, um, what did you want to talk about?"

"Right, um, so I know, you know, w-we both know, that you're getting older and, uh, that means that there are something's…you need to know," Steve stuttered through his prepared introduction, silently cursing himself through it.

"Um, okay…"

"…Listen, as you get older, you're going to go through…these _changes_ and experience these _urges_, but I want you to understand that these are all _natural_ feelings and changes and I just want to make sure that you are well aware of everything so nothing comes as a surprise," Steve continued.

Peter blinked once, twice. "Papa, what are you talking about?"

"Um, well, you see, your Dad and I when we picked you up from school, we saw you with that girl – the girl you refuse to tell us the name of – and well, like I said, you're getting older and I want to make sure you're fully prepared for, uh, _fondue_."

"…Fondue?" the teenager repeated slowly, the cogs clearly turning within his head as he tried to work out exactly what that meant – clearly something more than cheese and bread, he concluded.

And then, it clicked.

"Oh my god, Papa," Peter gapped widely, a panicked look in his face, "Really, you don't have to-".

"Now, I understand this is awkward to talk about with your father," Steve quickly interjected.

"Awkward? That's an understatement, this is _embarrassing_. I can't believe-"

"…But you need to know this stuff Peter, I want you to be prepared!"

"I'm plenty prepared! No need to continue! I know all about uh, fon- _oh my god_! That's what you mean when you say fondue! All these years I thought Dad was inviting you upstairs for _cheese and bread_! Oh, god, Papa, really, I can't even – _we are not continuing this conversation!_"

It was easy to say 'The Talk' wasn't a success. For days afterwards, Tony would watch in confusion as his husband and their son would flush pink in each others presence, refusing to meet each others gaze. Both refused to explain why and, when Tony had JARVIS bring up the CCTV footage, he took great pleasure in announcing very loudly that Steve could join him upstairs for "fondue".

_Yup, great parenting skills_, he couldn't help thinking, both smug and amused, when the dark glares of Steve and Peter followed him from the dining table.

* * *

The medical ward doors swung open loudly, ricocheting against the parallel walls, as Peter rushed into the building. He panted heavily, his bag hanging haphazardly over one shoulder, and a look of absolute panic across his young face. Steve looked up from where he was bent over his chair and met his son's gaze. It was like some unspoken agreement stretched between the two, forcing the two to close the distance between them and just cling to each other for dear life, seeking comfort in each other's embrace.

"How is he?" Peter muttered against the fabric of his Papa's shirt.

"Stable…the doctor said he was stable," Steve answered slowly. He wanted to try and assure him, to tell his son that his Dad was going to be perfectly fine, that he just needed a few hours sleep and some pain killers before he would be back to spending all day in the lab with his son, like they had planned to do that evening – but he couldn't. In this situation, no, he couldn't bring himself to lie to him. So he just didn't say anything more, holding onto him tighter and pressing dry kisses to his hairline.

"Dad's watching over him personally," Charley's subdued voice came from behind Steve's shoulder. Peter glanced over and could see the young girl offering him a comforting smile, her hands flittering along the edge of her shirt, the tell sign that she was containing her nerves. Automatically, he found himself smiling back, however weakly.

"He'll make sure that Uncle Tony comes out of this better than he was before," she continued, a more confident sound to her voice and her hands still briefly.

"What even happened?" Peter sighed out, releasing one hand so he could rub his eyes with the palm of his hand, but refused to move away from the hold of his Papa.

"We were ambushed," Clint responded after a moment, "The bastards had obviously been tipped off and had been prepared for our arrival."

"Your Dad was caught in the blast, after he got us out of the way of course," Steve murmured quietly, "I told him, told him not to…but…"

"We all know that Uncle Tony would never leave you all to get hurt, not if he could do something about it," Fenrir reminded them from his place as Ronan's leaning post at the far end of the group.

"The Man of Iron is a worthy warrior, one whom believes it vital to protect his brothers in arms," Thor nodded solemnly.

"Yes, and sometimes that's the problem," Rosette added with a sigh, "I need to find Fury or Hill. Someone gave us away and I intend to make the rat squirm."

"Ooh, count me in," Natasha smirked viciously, pausing only to press a kiss to four year old Heidi in her father's arms before following the fellow S.H.I.E.L.D agent from the room.

"I would hate to be on the receiving end of the wrath of those two," Loki muttered, mostly to himself, but it did seem to bring a small smile to Steve's face, so it was counted as a win.

Steve sighed loudly, moving to pull away from his son, when Peter's grip tightened around him. He watched surprised as his son pressed closer to his chest, hiding his face in the fabric, and clung tightly to his arms. He hadn't done this in such a long time. His arms hesitantly returned to their rightful place, rested his cheek on the brown curls, and whispered his assurances, needing them himself as much as Peter did.

"Don't worry Peter, everything will be fine. Your Dad will be fine. You know what he's like. He has to scare us all for an acceptable amount of time before he calls it quits. He'll probably be on bed rest of a while – he definitely won't like that, so we'll probably have to tag team and work together to keep him out of the lab…"

"I can get duct tape," Peter offered with a small sniff.

"See, now that's the idea. He'll be fine – he's Tony Stark, he always comes out of these things alright. You and I are going to stay right here, and we'll sit at his bedside, and tell him that he needs to get his backside up because he has some motor engine that he needs to teach you to build, or whatever it is that he's going to show you. He'll be fine; we'll all be fine…"

For a moment, Steve allowed himself to revel in the fact that Peter was holding onto him so tightly, desperately needing the contact and comfort of his father; something that made the ache in Steve's chest lessen, if only slightly.

Because Peter was still a boy, maybe not a little boy anymore, but still a child, still young and still needing his parents, both of them, to guide him, to comfort him, to prepare him for the future.

_No matter how old he gets, he will always be our little boy…_


End file.
